


Hazue’s Notebook

by longleggedgit



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:31:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longleggedgit/pseuds/longleggedgit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hazue likes to spy. Sometimes that means seeing things he's not supposed to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hazue’s Notebook

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [](http://anjenue.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://anjenue.livejournal.com/)**anjenue** for the beta. ♥ Written in 2007.

Hazue is good at spying, because he has to be if he wants to find anything out about his stupid older brother. Kaoru _is_ a viper, Hazue’s decided – he heard one of Kaoru’s teammates call him that once at a match the whole family went to see, and it’s perfect, the way his brother is always skulking around and hissing and hiding from sight, so Hazue calls him that, too, although never to his face.

Vipers are hard to catch. They’re mean and scary and they don’t like it when people find them, so Hazue has to be like a mongoose. Mongooses can hunt down snakes and catch them and even eat them (he looked that up on the internet), and while Hazue probably doesn’t ever want to _eat_ his brother, he does want to know what he’s doing from time to time. If Kaoru had his way, the only time they’d ever see each other would be at meals, and that’s only because he really really likes their mom’s cooking. He doesn’t care if he sees Hazue at all.

So Hazue spies. He spies on Kaoru during the rare moments he spends in the living room, usually to watch a TV show or a movie. But Kaoru doesn’t really like TV, and he’s seen all their movies already, so that doesn’t happen very often. Hazue spies on Kaoru when he’s in the bathroom and he leaves the door open, sometimes while he’s brushing his teeth, sometimes while he’s weighing himself or tying a bandana around his head. Hazue thinks his bandanas look stupid, but he said that to Kaoru once and Kaoru slipped him hot peppers during dinner when no one was looking, and their parents wouldn’t believe Hazue when he accused Kaoru of doing it, so Hazue keeps his mouth shut about the dumb bandanas now.

Hazue spies on Kaoru when his bedroom door is open a crack, which happens even more rarely than Kaoru’s visits to the living room, although sometimes Hazue can push the door open just a tiny bit without Kaoru noticing. Usually he’s doing something boring like studying or reading tennis magazines or lifting weights, because he’s a freak who never stops exercising even on his days off. A lot of times he’s on the phone with Inui, which should make Hazue annoyed except he kind of likes Inui. One time Inui caught him under the coffee table spying on them while they watched a movie, but he just winked at him, and when Kaoru left the room to use the bathroom, he bent down and said, “Why don’t you try the guest closet? You’ll be able to see and hear more clearly from there.”

Hazue moved to the closet, and Inui had been right, although Hazue didn’t see how he could have known something like that when it wasn’t even his house, and Inui never said a word about it to Kaoru. When Hazue slipped in the closet and made a bunch of umbrellas fall over, Inui even said he’d hung his jacket poorly and went to the closet to fix it, and Kaoru didn’t look twice. Hazue doesn’t know why he trusts Inui that much, whereas everything Hazue says is cause for immediate suspicion, but anyway, he likes Inui. A week after he told Hazue about the closet, he came over and gave Hazue a notebook and a pen, and it made Hazue really happy, although he still hasn’t figured out what he’s supposed to do with them.

Inui used to be around a lot, which made spying both harder and easier, because while Inui was always willing to help Hazue out when they were in the living room or the kitchen or somewhere open, the door was always locked when they were in Kaoru’s bedroom together, and that made spying pretty much impossible. When Kaoru told his family Inui had been accepted to a university and would be moving into an apartment a ways away, Hazue was sad but also excited, because he figured he’d be able to start spying on Kaoru in his bedroom again. But Inui being gone only means Kaoru is crabbier than usual. If he ever catches Hazue so much as hesitating outside his door he yells or throws something, and he’s taken to locking the door even when he’s alone in there. Hazue figures his brother probably isn’t worth this much trouble in the end, anyway. Lately, he spies on their parents.

~

“I got accepted to Hitotsubashi,” Kaidoh says as he clears away dishes from the table, and he tries not to be annoyed by the knowing smile his parents exchange between them. They aren’t surprised at all.

“Kaoru, that’s fantastic,” his mother is the first to say, and Kaidoh grunts and turns away from them to start washing the dishes. Hazue’s dishes, because apparently at sixteen he’s still too damn helpless to wash them himself.

“Really, Kaoru, congratulations,” his father says. Kaidoh scrubs at a tough spot on one of the plates and bows his head to hide his flush. The entrance exams were next to impossible. He almost couldn’t collect enough high school references. They don’t have a strong tennis team.

Inui is there.

“I might –“ Kaidoh drops the plate in his hands when his father lays a hand on his shoulder, and he scrambles to inspect it for a chip.

“We’re proud of you, son,” his father says. Kaidoh can see his mother nodding to his right. Their approval is too much, too unwarranted. Kaidoh bites down on the inside of his cheek and has to remind himself not to draw blood.

“I might move in with Inui-senpai,” Kaidoh blurts. “In his apartment.” His fingers curl instinctively around the sponge in his hand and he tenses his shoulders, enough that his father pulls back. Kaidoh tries to breathe normally but it’s impossible so he just closes his eyes and waits.

“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” his mother says. Kaidoh’s shoulders relax.

“Absolutely,” his father agrees. “He was so helpful to you in your studies all through high school. And I think you’re too mature for the dormitories, anyway.”

“Oh,” Kaidoh says. He puts the dish in the drying rack and tries to hide the way his hands are shaking by wiping them repeatedly on his shirt.

“We’ll pay for rent your first year,” his mother offers reassuringly. Kaidoh’s father nods his assent.

“Thank you,” Kaidoh says. Everything else he intended to say, everything he sat in his room meticulously planning out and rehearsing word for word, freezes in his throat.

After an awkward pause, he excuses himself and barrels through the door, eliciting a yelp as Hazue falls flat on his back on the other side.

“Menace,” Kaidoh spits. “Stop spying.”

Kaidoh distantly hears Hazue murmur “Viper” before he slams shut and locks his door.

~

It’s the first time Inui’s been over in almost a month, and Hazue’s excited, both because he gets to see Inui and because his stupid brother is actually in a decent mood for once.

“I’ll buy you ice cream later,” Kaoru says, as some sort of lame attempt at compensation when he and Inui head into his bedroom and shut the door. Which is kind of cool, actually, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to stop Hazue trying to spy.

He waits just long enough that he’s confident Kaoru and Inui must both be settled and talking, and then Hazue creeps forward, cautiously pressing his ear against the door. He’s barely applied any pressure at all when the door gives slightly, enough to provide him with a crack just wide enough to peek through, and Hazue has to hold in a gasp of surprise that his dumb brother actually forgot to lock it this time. After a few seconds of waiting in tense silence, he figures it’s safe to assume neither of them noticed the creak from the door, and he shifts until his eye is barely a centimeter away from the crack. Inui and his brother are both sitting on the bed, talking earnestly about something, and Hazue shifts again so his ear is closer to the door but he can still see.

“So you did tell them,” Inui says, and Hazue doesn’t know why, but his brother is blushing.

“Not – really,” he says with a hiss. “Just . . . that I’d move in with you, not – nothing else.”

“Ah.”

They both go quiet, and Hazue can’t tell, but it almost seems like Inui’s upset about something. Kaoru looks guilty. Probably because he’s such a dumb friend and not worthy of hanging out with Inui, but that doesn’t work really, because Inui looks actually concerned.

“Kaidoh,” Inui says after a pause. Kaoru isn’t looking at him. “If this isn’t what you want.”

Inui stops talking, partially because it seems like he doesn’t know how to finish, and partially because Kaoru suddenly looks at him, and he is giving him roughly the look he gave Hazue the time Hazue accidentally washed one of his white bandanas with a red shirt and turned it pink.

“You think that’s it?” Kaoru says sharply. Inui doesn’t say anything. “You think I’d – I’d do everything, I’d apply to a school so far away, I’d sneak around lying to them for years, if I didn’t want this?”

“Kaidoh.”

Hazue is really confused now, because Kaoru almost looks like he’s going to cry, and Kaoru _never_ cries, not when he thinks someone might be looking, and Inui keeps moving closer, and he puts a hand on Kaoru’s leg and Kaoru doesn’t knock it away, although he does stiffen and cross his arms in front of his chest and stare at the opposite wall.

“I’m sorry,” Inui says. “I shouldn’t have insinuated that. I only meant – your family is very important to you.”

Hazue frowns and squirms forward to make sure he’s hearing everything right. It’s like they’re talking in code or something, but he’s _this_ close to breaking it.

“Kaidoh,” Inui says again, and finally Kaoru turns to look at him.

“That’s why I need to tell them,” Kaoru says, and Hazue almost chokes because Kaoru’s voice goes soft and _breaks_.

“I know,” Inui says.

Then he leans forward, and Kaoru leans forward too, and Inui kisses him.

Hazue can’t move. He can only watch, frozen, as Inui wraps one hand around Kaoru’s waist and slides the other up the side of his neck, tangling in his hair and tugging, and Kaoru lets him, Kaoru closes his eyes and opens his mouth and tilts his head back so Inui can kiss him harder. Kaoru’s hands are all over Inui’s body and then they both fall back on the bed, and Kaoru hits his head against his headboard but doesn’t seem to even notice and they just keep kissing. Hazue feels the blood pounding in his ears and he covers his mouth with his hands, and it’s not until Inui’s hand slips away from Kaoru’s waist and begins to unbutton his pants that Hazue remembers how to move again. He stumbles backward and flies down the hall to his room, opens and slams the door, and after standing there for a few moments waiting for the feeling to come back to his limbs, he spots the notebook. Inui’s notebook, the one he’s kept on display proudly on a bookshelf since the day he gave it to him, still unused but waiting for something important, waiting for its meaning to make itself known.

Hazue takes two steps forward, lifts the notebook off the shelf with trembling hands, and proceeds to tear it apart, piece by piece, lined page by stupid lined page, until all that’s left is a mangled twist of wire and two pieces of cardboard that used to be the front and back covers. He wades through the mess of paper scraps at his feet, opens the door, and throws what remains of the notebook out in the hall.

Inui, he thinks, has always been a jerk and a pervert and an idiot, just like his stupid brother, but that doesn’t explain why now Hazue can’t do anything but cry.

~

Hazue isn’t talking to him.

It wouldn’t be that unusual, because Hazue stops talking to him for something or other on a weekly basis, except Kaidoh has hardly even seen him for two days and he has no idea what offense he could possibly be guilty of _this_ time.

“What is your problem?” Kaidoh growls when he enters the living room and Hazue immediately stands to leave. Hazue looks like he might actually answer, too, but at just that moment the doorbell rings, and with a weary hiss Kaidoh crosses the room to reach the door.

“Inui,” Kaidoh says, surprised, and he opens the door wider. Inui doesn’t just stop by very often anymore, not now that he lives a good half hour away. He is smiling and a little sweaty, like he just got done with a long exercise. Kaidoh loves when he looks like this, completely disheveled and yet entirely unaware of it.

“Yo,” Inui says. He steps inside and Kaidoh thinks this is a godsend in more than one way, because not only has _he_ been feeling glum and irritable and in dire need of a pick-me-up, but Inui always has a knack for putting Hazue in a better mood.

“Don’t let him in here,” comes Hazue’s voice from behind, uncharacteristically harsh, and Kaidoh whirls around so fast it nearly puts him off balance, looking to detect some note of sarcasm, a joke Hazue and Inui constructed behind his back merely to throw him off. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But there is no amusement in Hazue’s face, nor in Inui’s. Inui simply looks confused, and after a moment in which Kaidoh forces himself to take a deep breath, he says in short, clipped words, “What did you just say?”

“I said tell him to stay the hell out,” Hazue repeats. He tilts his chin up in that revoltingly egotistical way he picked up from someone, and Kaidoh barely has time to make it across the room before his hands are on Hazue’s shoulders and he is shaking him, hard, bringing their faces closer and closer together so Hazue can fucking _see_ how close he is to death.

“What. Did you. Say.”

“Don’t touch me!” Hazue yells, jerking out of Kaidoh’s grasp, and then he tears out of the room and up the stairs and he’s gone, and it’s only Inui’s firm hand on Kaidoh’s shoulder that prevents him from chasing after him and beating him within an inch of his life.

“It’s all right, Kaidoh,” he says, and Kaidoh thinks No, it’s really, really not, but he’s still mute with shock and can’t make himself say it out loud.

“I . . . suspect he saw us in your room together,” Inui says hesitantly. Kaidoh goes still, wonders why the entire world isn’t going still along with him so he can wrap his head around what he’s just heard.

“What?” Kaidoh says, voice cold, shaky.

“It would explain his behavior,” Inui continues. “Also, I noticed when I was leaving that the door was not all the way closed.”

“That’s not possible,” Kaidoh says, but only because if he doesn’t say it he’s pretty sure he’ll throw up.

“Kaidoh.” Inui moves forward, pulls him into a hug, and normally Kaidoh would break away and they both know it, because Hazue’s there and even if he wasn’t, that’s not proper behavior for the entryway of his family home, but he allows it now, stiffly, without hugging back. And of course, if Inui’s right, it won’t matter that Hazue’s there, anyway.

“Oh, God,” Kaidoh says, and he buries his face in the front of Inui’s shirt.

“I think you should tell them,” Inui says calmly.

Kaidoh wants to resent him for this, wants to snap Sure, Inui can talk, he told his parents he was fairly certain he preferred boys when he was fifteen and they only shrugged their shoulders and told him to continue working hard in school. But those are Inui’s parents, two people so perplexed by the sole offspring they managed to produce that they’re almost like a petting zoo that’s been presented with a tiger, at once in awe of its majesty and very, very unsettled by its power. They’re proud of his accomplishments, certainly, but neither seems to really understand them, and the more trophies and medals and newspaper clippings he brings home, the more they pat him politely on the head, up his allowance and tell him to keep up the good work.

Kaidoh’s parents are nothing like that. They praise him and fawn over him and build him a pedestal so high he’s terrified of falling off, and he loves and hates it at the same time, loves that he’s been a source of so much genuine pride to them with everything he’s accomplished but hates that he can’t be what they’re expecting anymore, not in this one, vital way, hates that he knows it’s going to change everything.

“They love you,” Inui says, tilting his face down so his nose is buried in Kaidoh’s hair. “This won’t change that.”

Kaidoh tries not to be unnerved by Inui’s apparent mind reading abilities, because he shouldn’t be, he’s known about those since second year of middle school, and he finally lifts his arms and clutches Inui’s shoulders and resigns himself to never let go.

“How do you know?” Kaidoh says, voice muffled by Inui’s shirt.

He’d like for Inui to answer, to quote indisputable fact detailing exactly why such an outcome is ludicrous, but he doesn’t, and Kaidoh wasn’t expecting him to. His hands tighten on Inui’s shoulders and Inui breathes into his hair, and Kaoru swallows down whatever is trying to choke him in his throat and reminds himself that if they move in together, if they can just make this work, he can have this all the time. He won’t have to lie awake at night aching for something he still doesn’t fully understand.

“You should come home with me tonight,” Inui says gently. “Try again tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Kaidoh says. He wishes Inui could fix this for him. He wishes it only took a little extra training and a meticulously constructed schedule.

“Okay,” Kaidoh says again, and he forces his hands to drop to his sides, awkwardly, because it actually causes physical pain.

~

Hazue wants to remind Kaoru that when you call a family meeting, you’re not allowed to neglect one member of the family just because you feel like being a jerk, but that would involve talking to him, so instead he waits until Kaoru and their parents have been in the kitchen for ten minutes and then sneaks to the bottom of the stairs. He can usually hear what’s being said from there, although of course Kaoru is being stupid and mumbling a lot tonight. Hazue grips onto the banister tightly, forces his body to go as still as possible, and holds his breath. The first voice he hears is his mother’s, which sounds confused.

“I don’t understand,” she says. “What are you trying to say, Kaoru?”

There’s a dumb hiss, so Hazue knows it’s Kaoru saying, “The apartment. With Inui. It’s – permanent. I mean –“

“We wouldn’t expect you to just move in with him for a semester,” their father interrupts. “What are you worried about?”

Hazue can barely think for the ringing in his ears, and at once the memory of Inui and Kaoru in Kaoru’s bedroom, kissing and touching and sighing and holding each other, is all he can see and hear. He clenches his hands into fists and stands up, cheeks burning, only growing more determined at the sound of his brother’s nervous stutter.

“I’m not. I mean. It’s just – you need to understand. Inui isn’t just –“

“They were kissing.” Hazue emerges from the staircase, hands still clenched firmly at his sides, and Kaoru and their parents look up at once, although, unexpectedly, Kaoru doesn’t get up and punch Hazue in the face. Instead, he goes sort of pale and closes his eyes and just sits.

“Hazue,” says their mother, breaking the tense silence. “What are you talking about?”

“Inui and Kaoru. They were kissing. I saw them.”

“Hazue.” It’s their father who speaks this time, and he looks angry. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“He’s not.” Kaoru is watching Hazue evenly, and Hazue straightens up and narrows his eyes and watches him right back, even though this feels less like an ordinary contest between them, more like something scary and serious and a little nauseating.

“Kaoru?” Their mother looks between them in nervous doubt.

“We’re dating,” Kaoru says. He is still watching Hazue, but he doesn't glare or raise his voice or threaten him or anything. He just sits there. “We've been dating since my third year at Seigaku.”

The room goes silent again, and then Hazue can’t meet Kaoru’s gaze anymore. He looks down at the floor and shifts his feet and continues to glare, but now there are tears stinging at his eyes and his stomach is clenching into a tight ball and he kind of wants to go back to his room. Their father finally speaks, and judging by the tone in his voice, he wants to run away about as much as Hazue does.

“If this is some sort of joke, Kaoru,” he says warningly.

“It’s not a joke.” Hazue has never heard Kaoru talk like this, monotone and emotionless and completely lacking any hint of a growl or a challenge. It sounds weird. Kaoru clears his throat once, loudly, like it hurts. “That’s why I applied at Hitotsubashi. That’s why I’m going to move in with him.”

Nobody says a word. Hazue wonders if their father is going to faint. He chances one more side glance at Kaoru, and he’s still watching Hazue, but now he looks a little more determined, a little less ill.

“I am moving in with him,” Kaoru repeats, tilting his chin, defying someone to tell him otherwise. “I’ll get a job. I’ll get two. But I’m doing this.”

“Hazue,” their mother says, hushed. “Go back to your room.”

Hazue has never been so grateful for the command. He turns without protest and runs, not slowing down until he’s almost at the top of the stairs. His heart is beating fast and he’s starting to feel dizzy and short of breath. Hesitantly, he looks over his shoulder at the kitchen, where everyone is still frozen in the exact positions he left them in. His mother is staring at Kaoru. His father is staring at the wall.

Kaoru isn’t watching Hazue anymore.

~

Kaidoh runs to Inui’s apartment. He runs the entire way – truly running, not jogging – without slowing down or stopping once, despite one of Inui’s lectures about endurance and muscle strain nagging at the back of his mind. When he gets there, dripping sweat and panting and trembling with exhaustion, Inui lets him in without scolding him, just places a hand on his back and steers him to the bedroom, where he sits him down on the bed and disappears briefly to find him a glass of water.

“Here,” Inui says, holding it out, at the same time Kaidoh grabs him by the wrist and tugs.

Inui stumbles forward, landing straddled across Kaidoh’s lap and just managing to prevent the water from sloshing over the rim of the glass.

“Kaidoh.” Inui raises his eyebrows but doesn’t try to stand, simply leans over to set the glass down on the bedside table and weaves a hand into Kaidoh’s hair.

Kaidoh presses his forehead against Inui’s chest and breathes in his smell and closes his eyes. “Tell me I don’t have to go back,” he says.

“You don’t have to go back,” Inui says obediently. Kaidoh’s breathing hitches. “But you will.”

Kaidoh nods. He knows this, but sometimes he needs Inui to say it for him, because that makes it true.

“Are you all right?” Inui asks.

“No,” Kaidoh says. “But I will be.” He runs his hands up Inui’s back, bites back a sigh at the shudder he can feel run through Inui’s body. Kaidoh tilts his face up and presses his lips to Inui’s collarbone, and Inui shifts and begins talking, which Kaidoh is used to by now and has come to actually enjoy.

“When we first started dating, I calculated only a thirteen percent chance you would continue seeing me if your family disapproved of the relationship.”

Kaidoh frowns, and then he falls back on the bed and Inui falls with him, their legs tangling together. Inui props himself up on his elbows and looks down.

“What about after we’d been dating for a while?” Kaidoh says.

Inui smiles a little and takes off his glasses, setting them next to the glass of water. “Still only twenty to twenty-seven percent.”

“Sometimes,” Kaidoh says, glowering, “your data is really stupid.”

“Maybe,” Inui agrees. Then he kisses him, soft and slow and hungry, and Kaidoh doesn’t really care about pressing the point.

~

When Hazue wakes up the next morning, it takes him a few seconds to realize why his stomach hurts. Then it all comes flooding back to him, the night before and their parents and Kaoru, and his stomach hurts more and he thinks Kaoru is _so stupid_ for doing all of this to them, and Inui is even more stupid for causing it in the first place. He climbs out of bed and opens his door, but before going to the bathroom he stops at Kaoru’s room. It’s open and empty and his bed is made and Hazue knows without question he didn’t sleep there last night. He uses the toilet and washes his hands and heads down the stairs slowly, not looking forward to seeing his parents this morning.

When he reaches the bottom step, he hears raised voices from the kitchen, and even though spying has gotten him nothing but trouble for the past few days, he can’t help but stoop down and listen at the exact same spot he occupied last night.

“What about Hazue?” is the first sentence discernible, in his father’s loud, angry voice, and Hazue jumps a little at hearing his name, puzzled that the conversation is in any way focused on him. What does he have to do with any of this, besides being the one who saw stupid Kaoru and stupid Inui kissing in the first place?

“What _about_ Hazue?” his mother shoots back. “He’s sixteen, Shibuki. He’s not a child anymore. And Kaoru has never been anything but a perfect role model for him.”

Hazue shifts in place and grips the banister harder, trying to figure out if he’s really, really hungry or if he’s actually going to throw up. There’s something wrong about listening to this, something that’s making him confused and uncomfortable, and he almost gets up and leaves but now he’s afraid of being spotted, and he’s sure there could be nothing worse than having his parents know he’s hearing them right now.

“Exactly. A role model, Hozumi. What sort of example is this setting for him?”

“He’s not doing drugs, Shibuki!” Hazue’s mother’s voice goes higher than usual and Hazue winces, terrified at the thought of her expression. “He’s not in a gang! He has a boyfriend. And I don’t know how many times we’ve both wished out loud that Inui could be a member of the family.”

There’s a silence then, just long enough for Hazue to think with a pang of something maybe kind of like guilt how many times he’s wished for the same thing, before his father speaks again.

“This isn’t what I had in mind,” he says gruffly.

“Of course it isn’t,” his mother says. She sounds exhausted, but less angry than before. “But it’s what we’ve got. Maybe you aren’t excited about the prospect of explaining to your coworkers why our son isn’t married some years down the line, but I’d say that’s a small price to pay for his happiness.”

His father is silent again, and after giving him and Hazue both time to think over her words, his mother adds in a voice so soft Hazue has to struggle to hear it, “Remember what he was like before Inui, Shibuki. Kaoru started smiling the day that boy came into his life.”

At that, Hazue can’t stand listening anymore, and he throws caution to the wind and flees back up the stairs, fairly confident his parents didn’t catch a glimpse of his retreating form but not really caring if they did. Once in the safety of his own room, Hazue slams his door shut and slumps down to the floor, leaning against it and letting out a shaky sigh. He pulls his knees up to hug his chest, silently repeating over and over, _Kaoru started smiling the day that boy came into his life_.

“Stupid Kaoru,” Hazue mutters, and he cradles his head in his arms and swallows hard and tries not to think about the fact that it’s the undeniable truth.

~

Kaidoh has a moment of quiet panic when he wakes up to answer the knocking at Inui’s front door and discovers a panting Hazue on the other side.

“Hazue?” Kaidoh says, not confident he’s really awake.

“Can I come in?” Hazue asks. His eyes are focused steadfastly on his shoes, and his cheeks are burning, although whether this is from exertion or embarrassment, Kaidoh couldn’t say.

“Okay,” Kaidoh says after a moment. He opens the door wider, and, suddenly realizing he’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, flushes redder than Hazue. Of course his brother has seen him in his underwear before, but never after having so obviously just shared a bed with Inui. Kaidoh clears his throat and, once Hazue is inside, closes the door behind him, loudly.

Inui peeks his head around the doorway of the bedroom, blinking owlishly and not commenting on the sight of an awkward Hazue standing in the entryway. He is bleary and easily perplexed in the morning, and Kaidoh imagines about all he can wrap his head around at the moment is that his boyfriend seems to have multiplied.

“I’ll make some tea,” Kaidoh grunts, and he waves Inui back into the bedroom, hissing as he walks past, _”Put on some clothes,”_ because Hazue might be a brat, but he doesn’t really deserve any more trauma this week, and Inui’s boxers are slung unforgivably low around his hips. Inui blinks at him again and then shuffles back into the room, hopefully to find a pair of pants.

Hazue doesn’t move from his place in the entryway the entire time Kaidoh is making tea, and Kaidoh very pointedly refuses to look at him. Instead, he waits with his back to the counter and his arms crossed until Inui reemerges, mercifully having struggled into a pair of sweatpants and even a t-shirt, and for once doesn’t try to argue when Inui goes straight for the fridge to find his juice. It does wake him up in the morning, Kaidoh grudgingly admits, better than tea ever has, although just the sight and smell of it still makes his own stomach churn.

“Kaoru?” Hazue says, quietly, and Kaidoh shakes himself out of his reverie and turns to fill a teacup, carrying it from the kitchen to hand to Hazue. He keeps his eyes averted.

“Here,” Kaidoh says.

Hazue takes it. He pauses to blow some of the steam away before his calm breaks and he has to set the cup down. “I’m sorry, Kaoru,” he says.

Kaidoh stares at the wall. “You don’t need to apologize to me,” he says, and he means it.

Kaidoh can feel that they’re both watching Inui now, who is somewhat nearer full awareness, having downed half a glass of juice, but still seems to be having trouble following the topic at hand. Hazue is silent, and for a few moments the only sounds are Inui sipping his drink and the wall clock’s ticking.

“Inui,” Hazue finally says, voice trembling. “I’m really, really sorry.”

Inui sets his glass next to the sink, eyebrows raised, and readjusts his glasses. “It’s all right, Hazue,” he says, and he smiles, broadly, genuinely. Kaidoh feels a wave of relief wash over him so overpowering he is suddenly glad for the countertop’s support. He wants to grab Inui by the collar of his t-shirt and kiss him, only Hazue is standing there, and anyway, Inui must inevitably taste like his disgusting juice.

Kaidoh turns to face Hazue. He looks small and embarrassed and nervous, but at the same time maybe a little bit happy.

“Drink your tea,” Kaidoh says, doing his best to sound stern. “Do Mom and Dad know you’re here?”

Hazue picks up his teacup and shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I came to get you.” He looks up and meets Kaidoh’s wide eyes with his. “It’s okay, Kaoru. They aren’t mad. They want you to come home.”

Inui’s hand falls on Kaidoh’s shoulder, and he quickly breaks eye contact with his brother, turning to hide his surprise.

“Why don’t you shower and get dressed?” Inui suggests. “We can all go over together, if you want.”

Kaidoh nods once and abandons his tea for the bedroom, opening the drawer where he keeps a spare set of clothes and bundling them in his arms as he crosses the hall to the bathroom. There’s a part of him that keeps insisting it can’t really be this simple, no way, there has to be some sort of catch, but the part of him that is ready to jump up and down and open the window and shout out for the entire city to hear that everything is okay, that he can have Inui and his family at the same time and no one is going to have to suffer for it, is much more compelling right now.

As soon as Kaidoh has clicked the lock on the bathroom door and turned on the hot water, he realizes somewhere in his flurry of thoughts he’s forgotten his bandana and turns back around to retrieve it. He freezes when he opens the door and spots Inui and Hazue, no longer in the kitchen or entryway but across the hall, standing in the bedroom. Inui is handing something to Hazue, who looks stunned. And Kaidoh, against his strict moral belief that spying is wrong, goes instantly still to watch the exchange.

“I know you need a new notebook,” Inui says. “This will give you some idea of how to fill it.”

“But – why does it have Kaoru’s name on it?”

“It’s the first notebook of data I ever recorded on him.” Inui glances up from the notebook, meeting Kaidoh’s eyes over the top of Hazue’s head and offering a small, apologetic smile. Kaidoh shakes his head, but he can’t help smiling back.

“Is it okay for me to take it?” Hazue asks, opening the notebook to flip through the pages of hasty scribbling in awe.

Inui shrugs. “Most of the data is already outdated information.” He continues to watch Kaidoh, which makes him feel embarrassed but still doesn’t quite force him to look away. “I’ve collected much more since then.”

Then Inui touches Hazue’s arm, and Kaidoh realizes this is a signal and makes his presence known with a cough, pretending not to notice as Hazue hastily tucks the notebook behind his back.

“I need my bandana,” Kaidoh grunts, stepping forward to grab it. Hazue picks it up off the bed and hands it to him before he can get to it himself. He accepts it with a hiss and turns back around.

“Kaoru?” Hazue says, and Kaidoh halts with his hand on the bathroom door.

“Yeah?”

Hazue pauses. “When are you moving?”

For some reason, the question makes Kaidoh wince. “Not for a while,” he says, looking over his shoulder at Hazue. “The end of the summer.” Hazue doesn’t look relieved, so Kaidoh reluctantly adds, “You can come visit. It’s not bad when you take the bus.”

Inui and Hazue both look pleased with this suggestion.

“Hurry up and take your shower, Viper,” Hazue says with a grin.

“Shut up, menace,” Kaidoh growls, and he slams the door behind him.

The entire time he’s in the shower, Kaidoh can do nothing but smile.

~

The night after they finish helping Kaoru move in with Inui, Hazue is mostly exhausted. That’s the reason his eyes keep stinging and his chest hurts, anyway, and it has absolutely nothing to do with missing his dumb brother. When he crawls into bed, he thinks sleep should come instantly, but of course it doesn’t, and after what feels like hours but is probably only about thirty minutes he resignedly turns on his bedside lamp. He lies there blinking to adjust his eyes for a few seconds, then reaches under the bed and fumbles until his hand encounters something flat and smooth and he picks it up. Hazue’s read every word of Inui’s notebook by now, even the tiny scrawling footnotes and side notes and appendices – there are actually _appendices_ – but he still likes to look it over once in a while, mostly because it almost feels like being able to spy on Kaoru again.

Hazue flips past the sections on Kaoru’s exercise schedule and his practice record and goes to the first page about personal interactions.

 _02-09_ , the first line reads.  
_Today I called Kaidoh at his home for the first time. He hung up._

The next few pages mostly illustrate Kaoru’s interactions with other players, a lot on Momoshiro and some on Kikumaru and Fuji and a little bit on Tezuka. Hazue skips these, too, for a later date.

_02-28  
I hazarded another telephone call to Kaidoh. This time I began the conversation with advice on his serving technique._

_He stayed on the line for approximately six minutes before making a (likely feigned) excuse and requesting that I call him again another time._

Hazue only has to flip one page before pausing to read again, and then he can continue on uninterrupted, as most of the rest of the notebook is devoted solely to logs between Inui and Kaoru.

_02-29  
I called Kaidoh again. He seemed less reluctant to accept my advice than yesterday and even asked a few clarifying questions. He is especially intrigued by my suggestions regarding his weight distribution while returning the ball._

_03-04  
Today Kaidoh called me and requested I go over weight distribution with him again._

_03-06  
Kaidoh and I met for private training after tennis practice. He was somewhat standoffish, but it was to be expected. He was satisfied enough to agree to meet again._

_03-29  
Kaidoh and I have convened several times for private training, largely to great success._

_Today he invited me over to his house for dinner._

Hazue turns the next page slowly, almost reverently, because he knows it marks the end of the daily logs, nearly the end of the notebook itself.

 _04-01_ , the final log says.  
_I have now met every member of Kaidoh’s immediate family. His father, Shibuki; mother, Hozumi; and younger brother, Hazue. They are at once precisely and nothing at all like what I expected._

_He invited me back next week, and I’ve accepted._

_My encounters with Kaidoh appear to be becoming less and less about gathering data._

When he reaches the bottom of the page, Hazue closes the book, feeling a smile tug at his lips as he drops it to the floor. He leans over, turns off the bedside lamp, and closes his eyes.

He’s asleep within minutes.

~

“You don’t have to put all those dishes away tonight, you know,” Inui says, and Kaidoh, after a pause, actually listens to him, mainly because he’s stunned Inui hasn’t said anything before now.

“I don’t want them to break,” Kaidoh says, feebly, and he sets down the plate in his hand.

“They’re bubble wrapped.” Inui is watching him in unbridled amusement, which is really kind of annoying, but Kaidoh hasn’t been able to work up the will to glare at him.

“Okay,” Kaidoh says, and he takes a step away from the box of half-unpacked dishes, not wanting to keep them within reach. After a few seconds, he leans over and closes the cardboard flaps of the box, ignoring Inui’s stifled laughter as he does so.

“Finished?” Inui asks. His mouth is quirked up in a half-smile.

“Yes,” Kaidoh says. He looks from Inui’s face to the wall behind him, which is completely bare and could really use some sort of color somewhere. Then to the sink, which is full of dirty dishes, and the garbage, which is overflowing. When he returns to Inui’s face, he’s still smiling.

Kaidoh hates that he can’t stop himself from smiling too. “What now?”

“Anything now,” Inui says.

Kaidoh looks down as he starts to get that constricting feeling in his throat that’s been troubling him all too often these days. He wants to ask Inui if he’s really here. He wants to call home and double-check that they haven’t changed their number and moved away. He knows he doesn’t have to do either. It’s beginning to get dark outside, and Kaidoh steps away from the counter, at first maybe intending to go toward the window and look at the city but getting tangled up somehow on the way, and whether it was Inui’s doing or his, he couldn’t say for sure, but now he’s got his arms around Inui’s waist and Inui’s got one arm on his back and one hand in his hair and they’re just standing in the middle of the kitchen, and it’s the most _right_ Kaidoh has ever felt in his entire life.

“Anything?” Kaidoh repeats, and he’s about to continue but then Inui backs him up against the cupboard and slides both hands to his neck and starts kissing him, fierce enough that it almost hurts, and Kaidoh tries to keep up but eventually has to break away for air, wiping his mouth shakily when he realizes he’s actually _nervous_. Inui is kissing him like they’ll never kiss again, and that in and of itself is a terrifying thought, never mind that this has never ceased to be just a little bit frightening, has always left Kaidoh’s stomach in knots and his head in disarray.

“Inui,” he says, gasping, because Inui isn’t waiting for him to catch his breath anymore. He’s rolling their hips together and dragging his lips across Kaidoh’s neck and taking hold of his ass and _squeezing_ , and Kaidoh has about a thousand objections to this but can’t seem to voice a single one of them.

“Inui,” he repeats. “Not here.”

“Why not?” Inui says, breath hot against Kaidoh’s neck.

And Kaidoh suddenly realizes he doesn’t have a reason.

“Oh,” Kaidoh says, a little stunned, because this is _their_ apartment and _their_ kitchen and they can do anything they want in it without having to worry about parents or little brothers or nosey teammates. Even fuck right where they eat, which is definitely not sanitary, but hell, this kitchen really needs a thorough cleaning before anyone tries to eat in it, anyway.

“Oh,” Inui says back, only he sounds much more surprised than even Kaidoh, because all of a sudden it’s Inui who’s being slammed against the cupboard doors, and it’s Kaidoh’s teeth that are raking across the sensitive skin of his neck.

Kaidoh doesn’t wait for Inui to ask him what he’s doing before he bites down, sharp enough that Inui curses, and his hands grapple with the hem of Inui’s shirt, pulling it over his head so quickly his mouth barely even parts from Inui’s skin. Inui is just as eager to get Kaidoh’s shirt off, and Kaidoh tries to help him in between biting and sucking, but once the shirt reaches his wrists it gets twisted up, and in an impatient attempt to fling it away he also manages to knock the box of dishes off the counter, which crashes to the floor with a resounding thump.

Inui freezes and stares at the box, but Kaidoh barely even throws it a glance before returning his attentions to Inui’s neck.

“Leave it,” Kaidoh says breathlessly. Inui looks down at him, incredulous, and Kaidoh takes hold of his glasses and tugs them off, tossing them aside with uncharacteristic carelessness. “They’re bubble wrapped,” Kaidoh reminds Inui, and Inui looks at him for a second longer before he starts to laugh, first softly, then louder and louder, until his whole body is shaking with it.

It’s cute, Kaidoh thinks, but that doesn’t stop him from cutting Inui off abruptly with a crushing kiss, then cupping the outline of his cock through his jeans so any further inclination toward laughter is forgotten for a shuddering moan.

“Fuck,” Inui says against his lips, and Kaidoh is drunk off of how good this is, just touching Inui and watching him be touched and not thinking twice about the repercussions. He moves against Inui slowly, forcing himself not to hiss at the friction, reminding himself that while they could easily just grind and gasp and go still like this and it would be good, there are much better things they could be doing instead. As usual, Inui seems to know exactly what he’s thinking – when Kaidoh’s hands move down to unbutton Inui’s fly, they brush past Inui’s, which are already working on his own.

Kaidoh pulls away then, just enough that their hips aren’t pressed close together anymore, and Inui’s hand stills and he frowns and says “Kaoru,” softly, easily, like he’s called him that all his life. The sound of it makes Kaidoh’s knees feel weak, so he drops to them, hard enough that they smart when he hits to floor.

“Sadaharu,” Kaidoh answers, smiling a little, liking the taste of it on his tongue.

Inui slides a hand into his hair, and Kaidoh waits just long enough for his head to stop spinning before he presses his mouth against the open front of Inui’s jeans, grabbing hold of the waistband of his boxers and tugging them down, jeans along with them, watching them pool at Inui’s ankles. He exhales and feels Inui’s knees buckle when the hot breath skirts across his erection, hears his hands scrabbling for purchase on the slick countertop when he drags his tongue along the underside of Inui’s cock just before taking it into his mouth.

Kaidoh’s good at this – they figured that out the first time, once Kaidoh got over his hesitation at something so unnatural and discovered there was nothing more natural in the world than the way Inui’s breath hitched at the sensation of Kaidoh’s tongue on the tip of his prick, the way his hips bucked forward gracelessly at a slight graze from Kaidoh’s teeth. And every time it only seems to get better. Kaidoh pulls his lips back so Inui can feel his teeth again, and Inui’s hips jerk so violently Kaidoh has to lean away a little in order to not choke, wrapping the fingers of his right hand around the base of Inui’s cock, sliding the left as high as it will go up Inui’s side.

“Kaoru,” Inui says again, between gasps and curses, and he grabs Kaidoh’s hand away from his side and twines their fingers together, still rocking into his mouth. Kaidoh clenches his eyes shut more tightly focuses on their fingers and his tongue and the heat and the smell and the taste, anything other than his own cock, which is riding so hard against the half-undone front of his pants that he’s afraid a wrong move will make him come untouched.

He doesn’t have to wait long for Inui, who has impeccable stamina in perhaps everything except this, a thought that makes Kaidoh blush if he thinks about it for too long. Inui’s hold on Kaidoh’s hand tightens as he comes, making a noise that’s somewhere between a groan and a sob, and Kaidoh waits for his shaking to calm down before he takes his mouth away, spitting into the palm of his hand and not giving it a second thought as he wipes the overflowing mess off on the nearest available surface.

The air feels different now, charged and electric and almost too thick to breathe, and when Inui takes Kaidoh firmly by the shoulders and helps him back to his feet and kisses him, Kaidoh actually forgets about his aching prick for a minute, just wraps his arms around Inui’s neck and revels in the warmth of his tongue in his mouth, in the strand of come and spit that hangs in the air between them for a fraction of a second before they fully break away. Then Inui flips him around and tugs his pants down and presses up against him from behind, their bodies flush together, Kaidoh’s thighs digging painfully into the counter, and Kaidoh remembers that his stamina in this field is somewhat lacking, too. Inui’s hand barely has time to wrap around his cock before he’s coming hard, gasping and coating his thighs and Inui’s fingers and parts of the counter and the cupboard doors, and Inui bites down on his shoulder as they writhe and wait for the aftershock to die down, Kaidoh thinking that this exact turn of events isn’t quite what either of them had in mind but still not at all disappointed.

They don’t move until the air starts to make the sweat and come cool uncomfortably on their skin, and then Kaidoh turns around to face Inui, pressing his lips to his skin, tripping a little on the tangled mess of their jeans on the floor.

“Bed,” he says firmly, voice muffled by Inui’s damp chest, because they are nowhere near finished yet if he has anything to say about it. He feels Inui’s nod, and also his hesitation, finally looking up questioningly when he makes no attempt to move.

“We should probably clean first,” Inui says, and Kaidoh almost laughs, except when he takes in Inui’s expression he can tell it’s not a joke.

“You actually want to –“

“Hazue’s coming over tomorrow morning,” Inui says, clearing his throat a little.

Oh. Kaidoh’s eyes widen and he looks over his shoulder at the state of the kitchen. The dishes and garbage are still there, now joined by the jumble of clothing on the floor, an upturned box of probably broken plates, various stains on just about every visible surface, Inui’s glasses discarded in the sink. Kaidoh feels his cheeks flare red. He steps back and picks up Inui’s glasses, drying them on a dish towel before slipping them back over Inui’s ears.

“Tomorrow,” Kaidoh says decisively, and Inui raises an eyebrow in that way that means he’s about to object.

“Sadaharu,” Kaidoh says for the second time, and Inui smiles, picks up their clothes, and leads the way to the bedroom. Kaidoh follows, not bothering to shut the door behind them.

He doesn’t even stop to worry about the next morning.

_end_  



End file.
